Raydor Family Crisis
by the.nerd.voice
Summary: Sequel to A Raydor Holiday and taking place a year after the events of that story. Christmas is a time for children, but when the unthinkable occurs, how could the Raydor twins possibly have a decent first holiday? More casework this time around. Continued prompt from FearlessnessXO on Tumblr. Warning: Talk of abuse. ((Look for the sequel Raydor Family Recovery!))
1. Chapter 1

The birth of the Raydor twins sent their grandparents over the edge bursting with joy. Of course they worried when she brought them home. They worried about her being alone with two small infants, Sharon could remember how tough it was with only one at a time. She remembered how colic affected her daughter and injuries plagued her son as a toddler. Now her own daughter was a mother. This was a different feeling entirely. Sharon is simply unable to keep an excited grin from her face.

"You look really miserable." Rusty smirks, sipping his coffee as he watches a sports' channel in the living room.

"Feet off the coffee table, please." She places her hands on her hips, admiring the large tree she obtained this year. It required two other men and Rusty to get it into the condominium, "Think it looks okay?"

"I think, once they eat the bottom three branches like they do with everything else in their reach, it will look great." He nods, glancing up at her.

Sharon playfully hits his arm as she walks by him, "It's their first Christmas."

"I'm aware." He stands, following her, "And last year was my first Christmas and next year will by my kid's first Christmas."

She stops, turning to face him, "What?"

"It was a joke." Rusty grins, "And very worth it by the look on your face."

"Not funny." Sharon gives him a look, "Jack is going to be here any minute. He may need some help from the garage."

"Are you all going to go overboard?"

"They are our first grandchildren. We are allowed to spoil them."

"Exactly. It's right in the grandparent handbook?" Rusty walks around to her, watching her closely, "What time is Quinn supposed to be here?"

"Soon. Same with Samuel." Sharon takes down a mug from the cabinet, pouring herself some coffee. "Did you check the inflatable bed like I asked you to yesterday?"

He nods, "Everything is fine. I even started the turkey in a brine yesterday so we can actually have it on Christmas." The teenager offers, "The bed has been tested, the silverware polished, the glasses spotless, the fridge cleaned out."

"I get it, Rusty." She looks above her glasses, "This year has been exceptionally hard in the office."

Rusty watches her, "I've been watching the Billings case on CNN. That's the one you're talking about right?"

"You know I am unable to discuss the specifics of this case, or any case, with you." Sharon shakes her head, "However, yes, that is the one that happens to be throwing us all for a loop."

"I can't believe a kid would just up and kill his entire family without help...or without any reason."

She offers a closed mouth smile, "His family situation may not be what the media is presenting, Rusty. There are always reasons for everything. Sometimes, the media only knows the portion of the story they want to present."

Rusty shrugs, "I'm just saying."

"As am I. I'm not fond of shop talk." Sharon turns when the doorbell rings. Her arms gingerly swing at her sides as she makes her way to the front door, checking through the hole in order to decide whether or not to answer it. She smirks, stepping aside as she opens it, "Jackson." She nods to him as he clumsily walks through with large bags of toys in each hand.

"They here yet?" The man glances to his wife.

"The babies? No." She shakes her head, "Rusty, come and help your...Jack." The catches herself. It was so easy to think Rusty was of her own blood. Having watched over him for well over a year, their relationship was not only growing more comfortable, but that of a mother and son more as well.

Jack smirked when the teenager bounds toward him, "Hey kid, I got it, but here. Take this one." He hands over one of the bags, "Sammy here?"

"Not yet, no." Sharon watches the two men drag the bags into the living room, "He did call and say he was fifteen minutes away about twenty minutes ago." She follows them after closing the door, "Which means he will be here in about ten minutes."

Rusty grins, nodding, "Sounds about right. Jack, could I get you something to drink?"

"Pepsi, if you have it." Jack stands up straighter, putting his hand to his back when he sees the young man walk away, "Sharon, you look great."

"Jackson, we just saw one another a few weeks ago." Sharon nods, placing her hands at her hips.

"And the distance is far too much, my love." He smirks when she gives him an eye roll, "Still, Shar, you're most beautiful when you're comfortable." The older man takes a seat on the sofa.

"Thank you." She smirks, "Quinn said the kids have only pulled the ornaments off twice. They seem to like the cartoon characters on them." She sits next to him.

"Yeah, I just saw them the other day." Jack nods, going quiet a moment, "I hate her being alone."

"As do I. I offered to buy her a place in this building, but she declined my offer." Sharon turns her head when Rusty returns with a glass for her as well, "Thank you, honey."

Rusty nods, smiling, "I can beat both of you. I was over there yesterday."

"Quinn says you help her out a lot. Thanks for that." Jack nods.

He shrugs, "Something to do." He wouldn't admit just how fond he's come to regard the Raydor twins, he feels it make him appear weak in some ways. However, Rusty knows that Sharon understands.

Sharon nods, standing when the doorbell rings once more. "Sam and Quinn have a habit of coming at almost the same time, so if this is one, the other is not far behind." She struts to the door, her boot covered feet relaxed in a bed of sheep's wool within it. She swings the door open, smiling when her son is there, "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

The large, broad chested man leans in, giving her a kiss, "Merry Christmas, Mom." Samuel Raydor walks past his mother, a book bag on his back containing his clothing, and a few gift bags in his hands. He pauses so she can walk alongside of him, "My students have been excited to see you on the news."

"The case is being shown in San Diego?" She places a hand on the small of his back.

"Mom, the case is being shown around the country. Buddy of mine from Philadelphia that I met while in college, said it's on there."

"You're kidding. I had no idea the case was that large." Sharon looks up at him with wide eyes, shaking her head.

"Are you trying to make a deal?" Sam watches his mother.

"I'm unable to discuss specifics about this case." She states simply, "Your father is here."

Rusty offers a nod from behind the desk to his foster brother, "Is it alright if I make a sandwich?" He looks to Sharon, "I'm hungry."

"Rusty, you know we will order food once Quinn arrives." Sharon looks to him over her glasses.

"What if she doesn't want to eat? What if she's eating right now and that's why she isn't here yet?" He watches her.

Jack chuckles, listening to the teenager, "Rusty, I'm sure she'll be here any minute."

She nods to the young man, "It is enough getting yourself ready to go somewhere with one child, but she has two children of the same age."

"Then, why doesn't someone go and help her?" Rusty raises an eyebrow, watching Sam put his stuff into his room. He stands, "I'll go."

Sharon shakes her head, "No, I will go. I have had more experience with this than the three of you combined." She smirks, "Everyone, think about what you want for dinner." She picks up her purse and keys. For some reason, she decides to put her sidearm into her purse. She doesn't usually and even she doesn't understand why she has the need to have it near her. "If anyone needs anything while I am out, call."

Jack nods, "Go, go. We got things covered here." He leans forward, removing the deck of cards he has always seemed to carry in his pocket.

She rolls her eyes as she leaves the condominium. Picking up her mobile phone, she begins swiping her finger across the screen to see if her daughter had sent a message that she wasn't aware of. She sighs when none can be found. Climbing into her car, she braves the short distance through Los Angeles traffic before arriving to her daughter's apartment building. She wished the young woman would understand that her best bet would be a place with a doorman.

Since the previous holiday, a restraining order was issued against Quinn's boyfriend. Luckily, his parents were more than willing to help out and there were no qualms between them. With James Truitt out of the picture for the most part, everything seemed to be peaceful.

Sharon Raydor steps off the elevator to her apartment. Something was off with the look of the young woman's door. She slowly approaches. noticing the broken look to the door frame. Removing her gun from her purse, she holds it at her side as she approaches even more slowly, edging the broken door open. Looking about, this doesn't seem to be a burglary. "Quinn." She calls, almost instantly hearing excited yelling.

Harper, the female of the twins, leans her head to the side, grinning to her grandmother as she teeters toward her.

Her grandmother is quick to pick her up, kissing her unusual blond hair, "Where is your mother?" She asks, not necessarily expecting her to answer, but surprised when she receives a point in the direction of the kitchen. Sharon continues holding the girl, then stops abruptly, seeing a blood trail. A dragging blood trail, the smell of gunpowder hits her nose.

Quinn adjusts herself against the bottom cupboards in the kitchen, her son resting against her. Her face and clothing drenched in blood. She holds the gun up, unknowing who to expect. She pulls the hammer back with her thumb, readying herself.

Sharon hears the click of what she knows to be a sidearm. "Quinn. I have Harper in my arms, don't shoot." She can't be entirely certain that her daughter is the one with the weapon, but better be safe than sorry.

The young woman lets her hand down with a thud, releasing a breath she didn't know she was keeping. Her other hand continues to stroke her sleeping son's brunette head as it rests against the bloody mess covering her trousers, "Mom." She croaks out.

The older woman rounds the corner, seeing her daughter. She can feel a flood of bile fill her throat at the sight before her. Approaching her daughter, Sharon crouches, "What happened?" She reaches a hand up to push a piece of hair from the young woman's swollen face.

"Wasn't able to call an ambulance...or police. Fucker broke my phone." Quinn grits her teeth, motioning to the living room where a broken piece of plastic can be seen scattered across the floor.

Sharon attempts to keep her composure, which she is failing at for the most part with the tears forming behind her glasses, "What happened?" She asks again, her voice turning monotone and serious.

"I let him come to give them gifts...for Christmas. He's been fine the last few months...since they've been born. I've kept him updated about them despite the order. I let him come...Then he wanted to take the kids with him. Started yelling at them because they don't really know him and Harper was fighting back. I told him that he couldn't and-" She motions to herself, "I tried to call the police, but he grabbed the phone...I don't have a landline." Quinn attempts to take a deep breath, wincing.

She begins to feel along her daughter's body with her free hand, "I smell gunpowder. Were you shot?"

"No, but I managed to get a few into him. Dad bought it for me. Said he felt safer if I have it." The young woman picks up the gun from beside her, "I fired about four times...I think three of them got him." She yelps from her mother's touch, causing her son to stir from his slumber against her.

"I believe you have a few broken ribs, and definitely a broken nose...possibly cheek. Did he hurt you anywhere else?" Sharon makes eye contact with her daughter, the underlying question that she couldn't ask. Didn't want to ask, but knew she had to.

"No...I don't think he would, besides he didn't have time to before I started firing." Quinn smirks, still absently stroking the hair of her son as he rests against her blood soaked pant leg.

"Did he strike the children?"

She shakes her head, "He picked up Finn and you know how he gets when he thinks someone is separating us. Harper growled at him most of the time. Kicked him in the leg." She smiles more with only one side of her mouth, trying not to chuckle, "It hurts to laugh."

"I'm going to give Buzz a call, possibly Lieutenants Flynn or Provenza-" Sharon begins.

"Don't do that. They're with their families for the holiday."

"Quinn, this needs to be properly documented and the camera of my cellular phone is not going to cut it. If we are going to have him arrested-"

"Don't do that. It's the holidays and he's probably with his mother and family. I don't want to do that to his mother." Quinn leans her head back, her breathing labored, "He just wanted to see his kids for Christmas, Mom."

"I am sorry that it is against your wishes, but I simply cannot allow you to continue. Your home was broken into, the safety of your children was threatened, and you've been assaulted. This story about him just gingerly coming to offer his children gifts, is not true. You are protecting him." Sharon's eyes darken, "Not to mention that you were forced to use a weapon against him in order to protect your life and the lives of your children. You're worried about ruining his holiday? I'm worried about keeping my job because of the things I want to do to him. I'm worried about going to prison for the things I want to do to him."

She smirks, "Captain Raydor to the rescue."

"If that is what you wish to call it." She nods, taking her phone from her pocket and dialing the only officer she could think of without any concrete plans. She waits until he picks up the other end, "Lieutenant Flynn, I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Andy steps off the treadmill he only recently purchased in a promise to himself to take better care of his health, "Nah, not at all. What's up?" He replies, out of breath. The man stands straighter when he can hear the shaky breath the woman on the other line is meeting him with, "Captain, everything okay?"

"No, it isn't." She swallows, "I need you to contact Buzz and-"

"Captain, what's going on?"

"I'm going to text you an address. Please, hurry. I'd like this well documented before I call paramedics and I'm not sure how much longer she's going to stay conscious." Raydor rests her cheek against her granddaughter's curled blonde hair, a cautious eye kept on her daughter.

Hearing the worry in her voice, Andy nods as if she can see him, "I'll be right there."


	2. Chapter 2

Buzz Watson snaps photographs of the crime scene. A crime scene far too close to their close knit division. He swallows, his eyes damp. The video he had to take of the young woman was a bit hard to handle. Such a strong individual at her weakest point, but somehow managing to display a strong face. He shakes his head slowly, making sure to capture every detail.

Andy runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head, "Sharon, are you okay?" He could only imagine how tough it is for her to have to deal with a crime scene at Christmas, much less that of her own daughter.

Sharon Raydor nods, almost absently, "I've managed to get the twins down for a nap. I had the EMTs check them for injury, but they appeared to be fine. The boy was sleeping when I arrived. Quinn's blood on his face." She grows quiet a moment before continuing, "I bathed him, but it was...That child wouldn't leave his mother's side regardless of how terrifying she appeared."

"Kids are kids. They're too young to know what happened." Flynn folds his arms, watching her, "I asked how you are...not the kids."

She shrugs, "Jackson and Rusty are on their way over to help me take them to my place."

"Sharon." He almost warns, knowing the woman can't answer or will completely lose her composure if she were to answer, "We've got things covered. We'll take care of it. Provenza is on his way over."

"I remember you saying in the Murder Room that your ex-wife was taking your children to Disneyworld for the holidays, but haven't you and Provenza have elsewhere to be?"

"Provenza asked me to call every half hour to make him look important because he doesn't want to be at his ex-wife's house." Flynn nods, "And I've...no, I don't. Movies on television, paperwork to catch up on. I'm fine. Working on the Billings case is actually much more relaxing from home."

"Andy, it's the holidays. You shouldn't want to work." Sharon shakes her head slowly. She tilts her head to the side, noticing her husband enter.

"Holy shit." Jack glances to the blood trail, swallowing hard as his eyes follow the dark red streaks to the accumulation in the kitchen.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant Flynn." She walks around her colleague, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder, "She's going to be fine."

He nods slowly, his hands balling into fists. "The boys said they'd watch the twins so we can go to the hospital."

Sharon nods slowly, "When you gave her that handgun, did you give her access to a firing range as well? A place where she can hone her aim?"

Jack shakes his head, "No, why?"

She can't help but smirk, "Just curious." A sense of pride rolls over her concerning her daughter's natural marksmanship, obviously inherited from her mother. "She said she fired at James. She was almost positive she hit him."

He nods, "Yeah, whatever. Shar, I really want to get to the hospital."

"Where are Samuel and Rusty?" Sharon shakes her head, "I can't leave the children here."

"Uh, excuse me. Captain, I was just eavesdropping in on your conversation. I can watch them until Rusty and your son get here." Flynn offers, "Not like we're going anywhere." He smirks, "Not like I've got anywhere to be anyway. We've called for uniforms to follow up on the suspect's capture. From there, they'll take him to the interview room in the office."

"I couldn't possibly ask-" She tilts her head to the side.

"He work with you?" Jack looks over, watching the two interact.

"Yes, Jackson, this is Lieutenant Andy Flynn. Andy, this is Jackson Raydor...my husband." Sharon raises her eyebrows a moment. The look on her face says a thousand words and Andy knew what each one was.

"Nice to put a face to the name." Andy smirks, "But yeah, Captain, I can watch them. No problem."

She places her hand on Andy's forearm, offering him a smile, "Thank you, Lieutenant. Let me check on them once more before we leave." Walking away from the men, she can feel some sort of tension between them. It was as if they knew one another before She introduced them. The door creaks slightly as she opens it. The male of the twins sits in the middle of the mattress in his crib. His large gray eyes stare at whoever opens the door, a pout at his lips. Sharon smiles softly, "You look just like your grandfather when you do that." She sighs, walking closer.

Finn tilts his head to the side, watching her. He was familiar with his grandmother, having seen her often. However, he was his mother's son, through and through. Any amount of distance from her causes him stress. A gurgle escapes his lips as he outstretches his arms for her.

Sharon sighs again, "This isn't going to work." She lifts the boy, running her fingers through his light brown hair. "Uncle Rusty and Uncle Sam are going to come and get you and Harper." Her voice is gentle, unsure of how much he actually understands. Motherhood was never easy for Sharon. Sure, she was nurturing, but her work prevented her from opening herself up to her children for the most part. Subconsciously. She needed to be their strength since their father wasn't around much.

The boy leans his head against her shoulder, humming to himself. It causes her to smile. She knew the struggles of being a single parent that Quinn was facing, but she somehow pulled herself together enough to be an amazing parent. Even through the distress of Finn's constant lung infections, Quinn pulled on a brave face and showed no weakness. Finn was needy, and wanting endless human contact. Harper was independent, "frustratingly so", as her mother would put it.

"Sharon, you coming?" Jack pokes his head into the room, seeing his grandson in her arms. He smirks softly, "Hey, big guy." Walking in more, he touches the boy's back, "We are never getting out of here now. I thought he was asleep."

"When I exited the room the first time, he was." She glances to her husband, "The kids saw the whole thing, Jack. Harper even fought back. They are...fragile. Also, you know how this one responds to people he doesn't know. I can't do that to Andy and I can't do that to Finn."

"Then what are you suggesting, Shar?" He shakes his head.

"I'll think of something." Sharon nods.

"Don't touch me!" Quinn yells out, struggling with what strength she has as medical personnel surround her, simply trying to assess her injuries, "Please, don't."

"Miss Raydor, I'm Dr. Eileen Lockwood, the attending physician here in the Emergency Room tonight. Could you tell me what happened?" The older woman, with a thick Irish accent, uses her pen light to look into the young woman's eyes, the nurses around her attempt to pull at her arms in an attempt to start intravenous lines.

"Stop!" She nearly screams, "Don't touch me!"

"Miss Raydor, we have to establish lines of fluid. You've lost a lot of blood." The doctor nods, and the nurses continue what they're doing, "We are simply trying to help you."

"I don't want your help!" Quinn yells again.

"Hey now. Calm down." The figure of a man appears in the doorway. His voice commanding, deep and raspy. Unfamiliar, yet reassuring. "Doctor, could I have the room for a moment?" She can see the gleam of a flashed badge.

"Just for a moment, Officer." Lockwood nods, walking closer to him as she exits with the rest of the nurses, "Try to talk some sense into her." She leaves the room, closing the curtain to give them privacy.

Quinn leans her head back, moaning softly, "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Lieutenant Provenza, I work with your mother." The man nods, walking closer to the young woman. He places his hand on the bedrail and notices as she flinches her arm from him. When she just looks at him cautiously, he continues, "Rusty gave me a call. He said your mother told them to get the kids. Look, I don't know the whole story, but here I am."

"Okay, Lieutenant Provenza, why are you here?" She asks simply, wincing slightly. The pain radiating through her body with the majority coming from her face.

Provenza sighs, shaking his head, "Rusty asked me to be here and handle this." He nods, "Now, Flynn let me know about Buzz taking your statement on camera. Flynn has your weapon, right?"

"Yes." Quinn watches him still, studying the fine wrinkles around his eyes. He continues to talk, she can hear it, but isn't really sure what he's saying. She glances to his hand when he offers it to her.

"Quinn, you have those two kids to worry about now. You know they'd want you back right away. Can I count on you to let the doctor treat you?" He tries to make eye contact with her. Her face a mess of dried blood and swelling, nothing like the photographs of the beautiful young woman he was shown by the Captain.

She looks back up to his face, hearing his sincerity. She reaches out, touching his hand. "I have some conditions."

"Name them." Provenza smiles softly, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

"No, I mean..." Quinn hisses in pain, her jaw unmoving as she speaks. " I mean, I don't like people crowding me...I'm claustrophobic that way. I don't like being touched by people I don't know...unless I start it. There are few exceptions, my mother, my kids...my siblings...sometimes my father...James."

"Now, James, who is that?"

"My boyfriend." Her voice quivers, as it has their entire conversation. He isn't sure if it's from the her pain or from her being nervous.

Provenza nods slowly, "The one who did this?" He raises his eyebrows, motioning to her face.

"I..." She doesn't answer the question, but it's obvious to him that his guess is correct, "I have a protection order against him." Quinn sighs, "Mom is going to kill me."

"I'll make sure she doesn't." He offers her a reassuring smirk.

"I have this order against him, but...I couldn't keep him from his kids. I couldn't do that to them...or him. We've been seeing each other. He's been coming over." Her chin tremble and her eyes begin to form tears, but it's only slightly conveyed in her voice, "I love him a lot. I...I can't help it, I just do."

Provenza nods, having heard stories like this constantly, "Did you say this on the video?"

"She was right there. I couldn't."

"Okay." His eyes examine her face, noticing the telltale signs of breakage, "And before today, has he ever hit you?"

"Sure...lots of times, but...not since the kids were born. I didn't talk to him from last Christmas to...maybe four months ago. He called me." She swallows, "His mother gave him my number. He just...he wanted me to send him pictures. He didn't have any. Had no pictures of his only children." Quinn attempts to smile, but moans when it just causes her pain, "I sent him some. Then we...we just talked for a few weeks...he was different."

"Different how?" Provenza notices the blood in her hair, noticing it's likeness to that of her mother, but the blood causing it to be off putting, "Before you answer that, would you mind if the nurse or doctor came in to hook you up to some fluids as we talk?"

"That's fine." She sees him press her call button, "He was more docile...not the cocky, ready to fight, guy from months before. The kids, they...I don't know. Harper didn't like him, and Finn is always attached to my hip. He hates when anyone else tries to hold him if I'm in the room. Few exceptions, but not many." Her body stiffens when the team of nurses and the doctor try to enter.

"No, no. Just the doctor and one nurse, please." The older man looks to them all, receiving a nod from Lockwood before she choses one staffer and continues her assessment of the abused young woman before them.

"Keep her talking." Lockwood mumbles to him, but loud enough that he can hear it.

"Who ate the exceptions?" He smirks, genuinely curious and not just from the request of the doctor.

Quinn blinks, "Mom and Rusty...that's all. Even hates when Sam or Dad try." She starts to laugh, but groans loudly when it causes tremendous pain, "Fuck."

"Miss Raydor, I'm going to need your consent for pain medication and medical treatment as a whole." Lockwood asks gently, taking the clipboard from a staffer who hands it to her, and offering a pen to the patient.

"This medication isn't going to put me into some kind of stupor, is it?" She looks to the doctor warily, "I'd like the pain to go away, not what sanity I have left."

"Of course." The older woman gives a throaty chuckle as the younger woman signs the paper, "Officer, will that be all?"

"He can stay." Quinn growls, there was something about this man she was comfortable with, plus, she's heard stories from both her mother and Rusty about him, but she wouldn't let him know that.

Provenza smirks, "You heard her." He glances to the doctor as she continues her exam, "So, Miss Raydor-"

"Stick with Quinn." She sighs.

"Okay, Quinn...what set him off today?"

"I got the kids dressed...They matched. Looked so damn cute so I sent him a picture...first Christmas and all...and he wanted to take them to see his mother." Quinn makes eye contact with the old Lieutenant again, "I reminded him, over the phone, that he couldn't take them anywhere because of the order. We couldn't be seen together at all or he would be arrested and he's already out on probation for something else, so it wouldn't be good." She blinks slowly, swallowing, "He didn't like that...Came over, started pounding on the door. I knew who it was. I ignored him."

"Why didn't you call police?" He notices two other figures come to the doorway, but continues to focus on her.

"Probation, remember?" She moans softly, able to feel something injected into the port they placed on the back of her hand, but the effects happen quickly, "He kicked the door in. Scared the shit out of me...out of the kids, who already hate him...He charged at me said he'd kill me if he couldn't have his kids. Started pounding at my face and...anywhere that was easy for him to swing a fist to. He boxes small time. He's good at it." She sighs, a slight smirk forming at her lips when the medication takes hold more, "Good at other things too, but...I tried to call and he grabbed my phone, broke it. I got the gun from the kitchen drawer and held it on him. Told him to leave."

Provenza chuckles softly, able to see the pain almost wash from her body, "At what point did you shoot him?"

"One of the punches hit the side of my head...knocked me down, but not out. He thought he could take the kids anyway, but he picked up Harp first. She's such a little bitch. For seven months old, she starts scratching at his face, kicking her little legs." She offers him another smirk, "I was so proud."

"What about the boy?"

"He can't walk yet. Boys are slower to develop than girls, but he's able to crawl at least. Jamie picked him up and Finny just lets out this scream like...Nothing I ever heard of. Jamie starts yelling at them...almost barking. He reached down to try again and I was able to fire a few at him."

"How many?"

"Four, but I think only three got him."

Provenza stands straighter, "You were punched in the temple and...how was your vision?"

"Little blurry." Quinn tries to lick her split lips, but it doesn't really go well since it's particularly difficult to move her jaw, "Why?"

"Flynn said your handgun was a-"

"I don't know the caliber, Lieutenant, I just shoot it." She slowly looks to the doctor, "This shit works."

"I'm very aware, Miss Raydor." Doctor Lockwood smiles to her, "We need to get some CT scans of your skull to see the extent of the damage. Do you think that would be okay?"

Sharon Raydor grins to her Lieutenant from the doorway, her husband standing next to her wrapping his arm around her waist out of habit.

Jackson freezes, the first time seeing the extent of the damage done to his daughter. He feels the need to do something, anything. However, there's something terrifying about it as well.

"As long as none of you fuckers touch me or crowd around me again." Quinn answers honestly, not out of anger.

"Won't happen again, I promise." She nods, glancing to the doorway, "Yes, can I help you?"

"This is our daughter." Sharon nods, glancing over to her husband, "You okay?"

"I...Yeah...I think I..." Jack mumbles before hitting the floor with a thud.

She sighs, rolling her eyes, "He always does this with blood. Couldn't even be in the delivery room with me when my children were born." She watches as some of the nurses tend to him, but walks closer to her daughter, "Hey."

Quinn smirks slightly, "Mom." She reaches her free hand, the one with the port on the backside of it, to her mother.

Sharon moves to her, "Doctor, do you have an open CT scan at this hospital?" When the woman nods, "Would it be much trouble to have my daughter use that instead of a traditional-"

"Of course...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." Doctor Lockwood, extends her hand toward the new woman.

"Captain Sharon Raydor. This is my daughter." She smiles to the young woman, "The one on the floor is my...my husband, Jackson."

"Dad is on the floor?" Quinn looks back to Provenza, "My dad is on the floor."

"Passed out. He'll be fine." Provenza smiles to her before glancing to the Captain, "She's a trooper, this one."

"I'm well aware." Sharon nods, "Doctor, is there any way you could have someone clean her up a little bit?"

"I wanted to see the extent of what we're dealing with first, just in case." Lockwood nods, "And I'm going to need you to try to remove her clothing. Started screaming when we tried to cut it off her."

"I'll take care of it."

Quinn furrows her brow slightly, "I can take my clothes off. You didn't ask, just broke out the scissors...These jeans alone cost more than two weeks of your salary."

Sharon rolls her eyes, "Really, Doctor, I'll take care of it." She watches the woman and her nurse leave the room.

Provenza glances down to his hip as his mobile phone begins to chime. A different ringtone for each of his co-workers. "It's Sanchez, I'll take this in the hall." He motions.

"Where are you going?" Quinn pouts her best pout given the situation, really it's just pitiful looking.

"Just outside the curtain. Your mother's here, besides, you need to get changed into that hospital gown." He nods to the young woman, moving beyond the curtain.

"You really need to work on your people skills, Quinn." Sharon smirks, setting her purse down, "Okay, you want the jeans saved, correct?"

"Please." Quinn confirms, "Where's the kids?"

"With Rusty and Sam." Sharon gently unbuttons her daughter's expensive jean trousers, sliding them down her toned legs, "Your father and I drove around until they fell asleep. That is why we arrived later. Made the handoff quick and painless."

"Good. Is Dad really okay?"

"Absolutely. He cannot tolerate the sight of blood. Don't worry." She nods, folding the bloody jeans and placing them in the bag, "I think we need to cut the blouse at least."

"I love this shirt. It's silk." Quinn watches her mother, pleading.

"I'm aware. However, silk is a very delicate material-"

"No shit."

"And is very easy to damage and ruin. This is ruined. They're going to need it for evidence anyway." Sharon nods, "I'll buy you a new one. Same with the brassiere, sweetheart."

"You're killing me." She teases mostly, slipping her arms into the hospital gown once her mother removes the other clothing, attempting to fold and place it into the evidence bag as well.

"Captain, when you're finished, I need to speak with you." Provenza calls from the other side of the curtain. Looking down to Jackson Raydor who appeared as if he had seen a deer in headlights, just staring at the wall mostly.

"Of course, Lieutenant." Sharon nods, looking to her daughter, "One second, baby." She walks to the curtain, following as the man ushers her to the side so that her daughter wouldn't hear her, "What is it?"

"A car registered to the boyfriend was found by Hollywood division. A body found inside behind the steering wheel with two gunshot wounds to the chest and one to the abdomen, fitting the description of assailant as well." Provenza tells her somberly, glancing over as Quinn is wheeled from her room, down the hall towards the scanning area. "Captain," When her head swings back to look to him, he continues, "It appears that James Truitt is dead."


	3. Chapter 3

Finn sits on Rusty's lap as they watch a children's television show about child mermaids going to school. Rusty glances to Harper who is standing at the coffee table in front of them. She uses her chubby fingers to place bits of cereal into her mouth as she watches the show as well.

Sam leans back, making a confused face at the television, "Okay...what the hell is the point of this show? Are they all mermaids? Mer-people? Is that a mer-dog?"

"Kids are in school learning about stuff." He shrugs, "Does it really matter?"

"It does when it doesn't make any sense. Who the hell wants their kids to be taught by mermaids and...Is their teacher just a giant fish?"

"Ya know, this is why television shows fail. It's people like you who crush the dreams of children." Rusty starts to laugh, "Imagination, Sam. You're a teacher. Shouldn't you automatically have some imagination instilled into your soul?"

"No, I get high for that." Sam smirks, "Any word about Quinn from Mom?"

He shakes his head, "No, but Lieutenant Provenza is keeping me up to date. Said they're doing a CT scan and then fixing her face. He was a real way with words, that old man." He smirks, "Said she's fine though. Looks worse than what it is. Said there was a lot of blood at the scene."

"He told you that much in a text message?"

"He's old. Old people write novels when they send a text instead of just answering the question given." Rusty nods, "Don't you ever text Sharon?"

Sam shrugs, "Not like I should. I try to talk to her once a week though." He nods.

"Try harder." He wraps an arm around the boy on his lap when he lies back more, "Especially with your niece and nephew. They're, like, all you've got." Looking down, the infant picks his head up, looking up to Rusty with his gray eyes. Finn puts his head against Rusty's, smiling. He points to the television before looking back to it.

"What was that for?" He raises an eyebrow.

"That was my cue to shut up." Rusty nods, smirking.

Sharon gently strokes her daughter's thick hair, her other arm rests on the bed rail with her chin on top of it as she sits there. This wasn't familiar to her. Her son was usually the one in fights. Her daughter was no stranger to defending herself, but she usually did this with intellect and sarcasm.

Jack stands at the foot of the bed, hands in his pockets as he watches the women closest to him. His resting daughter. "Glad the nurses cleaned her up." He nods, his voice low and throaty as to not wake the resting young woman.

"You really need to get over that."

"I can see people I don't know or photographs, Shar. It's the people I care about that bother me."

Sharon smirks a little, "Is that the reason you fainted when I was in the delivery room?"

"I love you, Sharon. I'll always love you regardless of what happens between us. So, yeah." Jack nods, "Have to say though, we made some great looking kids."

She purses her lips, raising an eyebrow, "They're great human beings in general, Jack. Not by anything we did or didn't do. Rusty included."

"That kid is growing on me. I'd have helped you adopt him if it meant anything." He smirks, sitting on the opposite side of the bed in another chair, leaning back, "You did a fantastic job with them all."

There are many things she could reply back to him with. Many negative things about how he wasn't there for their children and when he tried to be, it was usually when he was intoxicated. How he wasn't there for her. She swallows, holding her tongue as she places her face against her arm, "They want to do surgery."

"Why haven't they already?" Jack listens to her, comfortable in his chair.

"Short staffed." She swallows, her eyes glassy, "They want to keep her for a couple days regardless. The rhinoplasty is an outpatient procedure. The ribs can't be helped really. They heal on their own. It's the broken jaw...called a ramus fracture. Very unusual. Only three percent of jaw fractures are ramus fractures every year."

"Well, at least our girl is a low statistic...making history."

Sharon looks to him over her glasses, "That isn't exactly a statistic I'm thrilled she is a part of, Jackson."

"No, but come on. Out of all the statics she is now a part of, that one is the most impressive." Jack nods.

She isn't sure whether to keep quiet or not, "Not the statistic about abused women? Abused mothers? Abusive fathers attempting to obtain their children and severely hurting the mother in the process?" The woman focuses on her daughter in the bed, a bruise spread from her jawline up to her eye and the several other blows to the head the young woman sustained causing her to receive a concussion, leaving her face a mess of dark marks and knuckle prints. "He could have killed her...and then he would have gotten custody of the twins. Our judicial system at it's finest."

He knows his wife is hurting. He can hear it in her voice, thick with emotion. "It isn't great, but it's what we got."

"What would have happened if he did manage to take the children today?" Sharon shakes her head slowly, "I guarantee you, he would have tried his damnedest to ensure that we never have seen them again. If Quinn wasn't proficient with a firearm, we would have lost three people today." It's all that can run through her mind. It's all she can do is think of what could have happened.

"It didn't though, Shar. She's like you. Each bullet is an extension of herself. Gets the shit beat out of her and still manages to hit the son of a bitch." Jack nods, "Was your Lieutenant able to get anything from her? Information wise."

"I believe so, but he isn't telling me anything." She pauses the movement of her hand when the young woman begins to stir.

Quinn Raydor groggily half opens her eyes, glancing from side to side to her parents. Unsure of what to say, or if she should even say anything. She blinks, smirking a corner of her mouth when she sees her mother.

"Hey, honey." Sharon tilts her head to the side with a comforting smile, "How are you feeling?"

"I can't feel anything." She raises an eyebrow, "So...that's good, right?"

"I believe so, yes." The older woman nods, "You have some decisions to make." Sharon knows she should tell her about Jamie Truitt's fate. She knows she should probably say something, anything concerning it.

"Like?"

Jack leans over, gently taking hold of his daughter's small free hand and placing it in his rough one, careful of the lines attached to it. "They want to perform surgery on the jaw and nose. The nose is no problem in and out, but the jaw you need to be here overnight for." He knows his wife wanted to tell her, but he also knew his daughter was going to be angry about it. He'd rather she be angry with him than her mother.

Sharon gives him a regretful look, continuing his statement, "These surgeries are necessity. They believe your airway through your nostrils to be compromised. Your jaw needs to be able to move so that you can speak and eat without causing the occurrence of pain."

"No." Quinn replies quietly.

"Baby, you need to have these things done." Jack nods.

"I won't miss the kids' first Christmas. I can't do that to them." Her face grows more and more blank, unsure of how to feel.

Sharon licks her lips before continuing, "We can push Christmas back a few days. Finn and Harper won't know any better and the boys can wait."

"Pushing back a few days isn't Christmas." Quinn trembles slightly, "We'll leave. We can leave tomorrow morning...or tonight. Then, I'll come back."

"Absolutely not." Her mother replies quickly, "Christmas is not as important as your health."

"Now, wait a minute, Shar. Girl might have something." Jack leans forward more, "What if I talk to someone out there, get the doctor to do the surgery-"

"Dad-"

"Hear me out, baby." He nods, continuing, "They perform the surgery and whatever else they have to do. You leave AMA after instructions are given for care. We tell them the reasons and-"

"They may perform the surgery quicker." Sharon looks over to the man, "I do not believe that is a good idea." She shakes her head slightly.

"I do." Quinn swallows, "I won't be holed up here. So, it's either do the surgery now and I leave AMA, or it's leave AMA now and return later for the surgery."

"If you must choose between the lesser of terrible choices, I think the first would be your best option." The woman replies in a monotone voice, "You need to have this done or-"

"I'll have a nose like Dad."

"Or you won't be able to breathe properly nor have control or use of your mouth."

Jack smirks, "Want me to talk to someone?"

Sharon puts a hand up, "I've spoken to them prior to this and they know I'm with the police." She stands, leaning over the rail of the bed to place a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead. "I'll be right back."

Flynn shakes his head, "Something doesn't add up here." He stares at the photographs on the whiteboard as he stands in the Murder Room, "Something is off."

"I feel the same way." Provenza nods, "She told me she and James Truitt were seeing one another again despite the protection order."

"Yeah, but we've seen that before."

"Never said we didn't." The older man leans back in his chair, "The girl has told two different stories so far because she doesn't want her mother to know that she and James Truitt had reconciled. This was not a widely known thing. Not to mention his mother wants to press charges."

"You think she could have lured him there?" Andy folds his arms, sitting on the edge of the desk, "Couldn't be. There was the pattern of a foot on the door. He kicked in the door."

"What if it was because he thought she was in some type of danger?" Provenza folds his hands, placing them behind his head.

"Possibly. I don't think she's capable of that though."

"Why not?" He raises an eyebrow, "Because she's Raydor's kid?"

"No, because I saw her sitting there. I saw her son's head on her lap. It was...the pictures don't do the scene justice this time." Flynn swallows, "Has her phone been looked into?"

Provenza raises an eyebrow, "Tomorrow is Christmas, so...No."

"So, should we put this aside until after-"

"Yeah, alright." Louie stands, pulling on his jacket, "Good thing is, she isn't really able to go anywhere if we need to question Quinn Raydor."

"I've never wanted to be more wrong in all my life." Andy mumbles, slowly slinking out of the office area.

"Is Mom staying at the hospital?" Samuel Raydor bites down into a slice of pizza, complete with mushrooms, sausage, and sweet peppers.

Rusty nods, "Her and Jack."

"So...wait a minute, we're stuck with the kids overnight by ourselves?" Sam raises his eyebrow, "Have you ever watched little kids like this overnight?"

"They've stayed over before. Sharon likes it when they stay." He shrugs, "They fall asleep. There's really no ulterior motive behind watching them overnight." Rusty eats a slice as well, Finn sitting on the bar countertop in front of him, watching him eat, pouting, "You can't have this, you won't like it. Ask me again when you're older."

"How did you get him to like you? The boy...the other one doesn't like anyone." He smirks.

Rusty shrugs again, "It's not something you try at. He just does or doesn't. Finn is simple like that. Harper will rip your face off with just a look. She's like Sharon." He laughs a little.

"Quinn is just as bad." Sam nods, "Growing up, she had me convinced between the ages of five and eight that I was adopted. It didn't matter that I looked a lot like my dad or had my mom's eyes, I was obviously adopted."

"How did she pull that?"

"She used to say she could remember the day she was born. Told be I couldn't because they gave me medicine that erased that memory because some other family had me." He smirks, "I'll tell you, she made up fake charts and found pictures of people in magazines. She had all sorts of evidence to back her statement up."

Rusty begins to laugh, "She made her own evidence?"

Sam nods, "Her reading level was way too high for her own good."

"That had to be...that's kind of terrible." He laughs harder. Glancing over, he can see Quinn standing there, giving them both a look, "See?"

"Why are you evil?" The older man smirks, looking to his niece, "That blonde hair though. I didn't know that would have been able to be a dominant trait."

Rusty shrugs, "Why not? Sure they're mixed race kids, but you and Quinn were blonde when you were small."

"How do you know that?"

"Sharon has pictures everywhere. There's books of them underneath the coffee table. She had them professionally made so to not screw up the original pictures." He smiles a little, "One for you and one for your sister. I think she's working on a couple for the twins...their first year of life and all." He picks up Harper who has teetered over to him, placing her on the countertop next to her brother, "Wouldn't know it, but she's sentimental that way."

Sam shakes his head slowly, "I didn't know that." He looks up to his foster brother, "Ya know, other people would be upset or some shit that their mother prefers the company of-"

"Hey, I don't-"

"No, I mean like...I'm just really glad she has you to talk to...I'm glad you live here with her. She's going to be lost when you go to college...if you're going." He nods, "She has the grandkids and stuff, but...you aren't going to be right there anymore."

Rusty shrugs, "I don't really want to go to college."

Sam pauses, standing up straighter as he makes eye contact with the young man before him, "Don't tell her that."

"You dropped out."

"Yeah, but college isn't my thing and-"

"Right, what makes you think it's mine?"

"I went for a couple years. As long as you go for a few years, Rusty. It will help with jobs and social stuff." Sam shakes his head, "That was the only good part. All the cool shit that happened on campus." He looks to the twins, "Sorry."

"Yeah, well...I don't know. I have a little while to think about it." Rusty nods slowly, "Can you help me get these two baths and pajamas?"

"They look clean enough." It wasn't that he doesn't love his niece and nephew, he just was never very comfortable with small children. Nor did he know how to react to them well. He was never around them much in his life.

"Come on. It's not that hard. Sharon usually either washes them in the bathtub together, or in the sink." He motions to the one in the kitchen.

"Bathtub together would probably be better, wouldn't it? Couldn't you just do this? I'll read them a book or something." Sam pouts slightly, but isn't aware that he's doing such.

Rusty quickly notices the similarities between his foster brother and foster mother. Laughing to himself, he nods. He places Harper onto the ground, carrying Finn in his muscular arms, he leads a small parade to the guest bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

The basis of the plan were detailed. Quinn Raydor made it very clear to hospital staff her intended plans, but it was also very clear the amount of pain she was going to endure. A feeding tube was inserted to ensure she would receive the nutrients she needed since she wasn't able to put much pressure on her mouth with the chewing of food. Full instructions were provided to Sharon and Jackson, detailing the best way to care for their daughter and what signs to look for so that they know if they need to take her back to the hospital.

Quinn wears a loose fitting raglan shirt, with fleece riding pants. Comfort was a necessity in this situation.

"Now remember, they said to take it easy. No picking the kids up." Jackson pushes a wheelchair containing his daughter through the halls of Sharon's condo building.

Sharon sighs, "I wish she didn't have to be so medicated." She runs a hand through the young woman's hair.

"I'm fine. Can we just pretend I'm fine?" She glances up to the woman, "Rusty and Sam took care of the kids last night?"

"They did." Jack grins, "Everything was taken care of."

"As long as they're okay." She smirks a little, pouting her lips slightly in thought, "I just need them, ya know."

"Of course, baby." He nods, watching as she places her hand up when they get out front of Sharon's condo, "What's wrong?" He asks quickly.

"I want to walk in. The wheelchair will scare them."

"Honey, I don't want you to fall." Sharon shakes her head slowly, "I don't think the chair will scare them. It will enable them to be able to sit on your lap."

"So will me walking in and sitting on the sofa." Quinn nods, "Please..." She whispers, pleading. The appearance of being weak is the last thing she wanted her children to see, "I'll hold onto the wall."

Sharon swallows, taking a moment before nodding. She knows where her daughter is coming from. She knows how important it is to always appear positive and strong in front of one's children, regardless of how young they may be.

"_I'm going into my bedroom. I'm reading a book. If either of you begin to argue and can not possibly think of a way to work it out, think harder." A younger Sharon Raydor lifts her glass of wine from the kitchen counter, slowly making her way toward her bedroom. The same bedroom she once shared with her husband. _

_Their relatively large townhouse was perfect for them, but with them growing older and their father's constant comings and goings, they could tell it was taking a toll on their mother._

_Quinn stands there, nearly seventeen, "Did that just happen?" She watches as her mother slams the door behind herself._

"_If you'd have shut up, you wouldn't have made mom cry." Sam mumbles, himself fourteen. He folds his arms._

"_If I'd have shut up? Because why? Because I'm a woman?"_

"_You're a woman?" He raises his eyebrows._

_Quinn growls, "We need to stop this. You're being an asshole about everything. Fucking immature little-" She stops herself._

"_Go ahead and finish. I'm all ears." Sam smirks, putting his hands behind his ears as if to funnel the sound into them._

"_Yeah, you are, Dumbo." She shakes her head._

"_Your diary sucked this week. That Mike guy...totally gay."_

"_You read my diary?" Quinn's eyes begin to blaze before she instinctively backhands him across the face, then almost instantly regrets it, "Sam-"_

"_I'm telling Mom." He glares to her, "You're going to be in so much trouble. Fuck Prom, probably won't even go to that now." The younger of the two begins to walk toward his mother's bedroom._

"_Leave her alone, she said she wants to relax." She sts following him._

"_Nope." He breaks out into a run._

_Quinn is on his heels the entire time. She quickly removes her shoe, throwing it at his feet and causing him to trip. When the boy falls flat on his face, stopping him, she smirks, finally able to catch up with him, "I told you to-" She pauses hearing the unmistakable sound of crying._

"_You are such a bitch, I can't believe you-"_

_The young woman motions for him to be quiet, then to her mother's bedroom door for him to listen._

"_Is she?" Sam whispers, instantly worried._

_Quinn nods slowly, then makes eye contact with her brother, "We need to stop."_

_He swallows, nodding in return, "Sorry that I'm an asshole."_

"_And I'm sorry I'm a bitch."_

Sam sits on the floor using the large crayons he ran out and bought at the nearest open convenience store for Christmas morning, coloring with his niece on pieced together wrapping paper from a roll his mother had tucked away in the closet. "Harper, you've got an eye, kid."

"Told you she wasn't too bad." Rusty smirks, eating cereal at the breakfast bar with Finn on his lap. The boy had been attached to the younger man since almost day one. Children always brought out the best in Rusty. There were no questions about it. He offers the toddler a few pieces of dried cereal on the countertop, which he promptly eats. Hearing what he knows to be the sound of keys in the door, he gets the boy situated on the backed stool, keeping an eye on him as he moved to look to the door.

"Just lean on me if you need to." Jack murmurs into his daughter's ear as she loops her arm onto his elbow, "You're doing great."

The young woman nods absently, slightly unsteady on her feet. Not necessarily from her injuries, but from the pain medication provided to her.

Rusty stands straighter, swallowing. He had no idea just how bad it was. He had a general knowledge that it would be hard to see her, but under no remote possibility did he expect this. He offers her a smile, "Merry Christmas."

Quinn raises her head, giving him her best smile, which isn't much. Her gaze slowly moves to her brother, who she notices has tears in his eyes, "No, no, no. Come on. It's Christmas." She nods slowly, "We're going to be happy. We're going to open presents." She smirks, "Come on, Sammy." She nods, glancing down when she notices her daughter standing in front of her. "Hey." Quinn reaches a hand down to Harper.

"How about you sit down?" Jack motions to the sofa, leading her over toward it.

Rusty makes eye contact with the woman who has developed into his mother and can instantly see the uncertainty in her eyes. He looks over, letting Finn down from the backed stool before walking over to the woman. He places a hand on her arm, gently guiding her into his bedroom, locking the door behind himself. He folds his arms, watching as she takes a seat on his bed. "Alright, you're alone now."

"Rusty-" Sharon shakes her head, almost warning him.

"Come on." He walks about his room, "You've held it together. Strong and powerful Sharon Raydor...This is me though. I know how you are." When she sits there silently, he continues, "You don't need to put up a front for me. I know you will with Quinn, I understand that. However, she looks like shit. What did she have done yesterday?"

"Open reduction, rigid internal fixation on her jaw...rhinoplasty..." Her shoulders slump slightly, as she begins to relax, "She has...there are broken ribs and...She isn't able to move much without assistance because of pain. The feeding tube is..." She shakes her head. Her emotions beginning to betray her, "I thought she was dead when I arrived to her apartment. There was so much blood." Swallowing, her chin trembling ever so slightly. She removes her glasses, folding the arms and holding them in her hand, "She killed him."

Rusty tilts his head to the side, "The...James Truitt, the kids' father?"

Sharon nods slowly, "She's an amazing shot. She wasn't trying to kill him."

"She's taking it well."

"She doesn't know."

He chuckles to himself, "What do you mean, she doesn't know?" He asks incredulously, "Isn't that kind of important?"

"Not today. I'll tell her tomorrow." Sharon nods, "Today is Christmas and...it's a first for her as a mother and myself as a grandmother." A tear escapes her eye as she stares out in front of her to nothing in particular, "All of the photographs from her children's first holiday will include a face covered in bruises and gauze and...and eyes so heavily lidded because of pain medication that they appear to be constantly exhausted." Her hand gently grazes her cheek as another tear falls, "She has a feeding tube in her belly because she can't put pressure on her jaw to chew for a few weeks...and the sucking motion because of where the fracture was..." Sharon finally lets it go, allowing her tears to fall more.

Rusty nods slowly, knowing this is what the woman needs, "You haven't left her side, Sharon. You've protected her."

"No, I didn't. I promised her I would and I failed again." She becomes more rigid, when the young man sits next to her, "I can only think of what could have happened because I didn't put my foot down about her staying in this building."

"Did you tell her you bought it for her?"

Sharon shakes her head, "It was going to be a Christmas gift. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms. It would be perfect. Now, she's going to think it is only because I feel sorry for her."

Rusty shakes his head, pulling for the woman to lean on him, "Don't think so much. Don't assume she'll think into it that far."

"I know my daughter. I know exactly how-"

"So what?" He smirks, shrugging, "When she finds out that she killed James, she isn't going to want to stick around her apartment. She won't want the kids there. Maybe let her know you got her something and you'll tell her about it tomorrow. Let her customize it or something. Let her think you don't just feel sorry for her."

"I did the kids' rooms the way she likes...gender neutral with their names on the wall. The cribs convert to toddler beds and then full size beds when they're prepared for it." Sharon smiles softly, "I just want her happy." She wipes her cheek again.

"You're her mom. You're an awesome mom." Rusty nods, "Don't worry about impressing her. She has more pressing matters to attend to. As long as you're there for her, she's happy."

She nods, "Thank you for this." She swallows, waving her hands at her eyes in an attempt to make them appear to not have been crying. She places her glasses back onto her face, "I feel like I need a shower."

"Then take one. The little guys were eating breakfast. Also, I think Harper may have actually found someone she isn't a total bitch to."

Sharon smirks, "Such as?"

"Sam. Can you even believe that? He wouldn't even help me give them a bath yesterday and they've been coloring all morning...even ate breakfast together." Rusty grins, laughing to himself at the same time.

"And Finn?"

"Well, he has taste." He smirks, standing, "I'm going to go out there, maybe see if Jack wants to shower or whatever too. Is Quinn able to?"

Sharon nods, "Let her know I'll be out to ask her when I'm finished. I know it's important to her."

"Yes, Captain." Rusty nods, walking to the door and slipping out to the living room. He watches as the matriarch retires to her own room to ready herself.

Sam holds his sister in his lap, his arms wrapped around her gently, she appears so small. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Call me the Bionic Woman." Quinn smiles to him, watching his facial movements, "Ya know, these drugs are fantastic. I'm not even sure if I have skin."

He snorts, "You do."

"Heard you played uncle."

"I did." Sam smirks, "I'm Harper's new favorite."

"What did you give her?" Quinn slurs slightly, blinking slowly.

"What makes you think I gave her anything?"

"She works it. Plays the bitch card until she gets something out of it."

Sam smirks, "Crayons. We needed them for around here."

"Right, like when you want to use your Batman coloring book." Quinn nods slowly, blinking slowly again, "Sammy, I'm really tired."

"I can tell. How about I take you to Mom's room and you take a nap before we open presents?"

"Where is she?"

He motions to the hallway, "Taking a shower. Then, I think Dad is taking one. Mom said something about helping you get washed up a little bit."

"I'd like that." Quinn smiles softly.

"Exactly, so what about a little nap. We'll open gifts at dinnertime...ish. Something like that." Sam smirks, "It will still be Christmas day. Don't worry about it. I'll make sure after dinner that you're awake. I'm sure Mom will be doing your hair and girly things."

"I'm just glad I'm home, Sammy. I hate hospitals. The smell."

"I know." He nods, "Okay, do you want to hold a pillow for your ribs?"

"Kay." Quinn answers softly, already starting to fall asleep against her younger, yet larger built brother. She holds onto a pillow from the sofa when he hands it to her.

"Dad, help me get her to Mom's bed for a nap?" Sam picks his head up, standing with his sister in his arms.

Jack smirks, "Yeah, no problem, son." He walks to his wife's room, pulling down the bed linens and helping him in little ways before walking to the bathroom. Jack opens the door, closing it behind him, "Shar." He moves to the toilet, picking up the seat.

"You could knock, you know." Sharon rolls her eyes, standing completely nude behind the frosted glass, yet able to see his figure, "What are you doing?"

"I have to take a piss." He nods, doing just that, "Quinn's in your bed. She's tired. Maybe let her rest before dinner or whatever the hell you want to do with her."

"It is Christmas. We will open gifts with the kids when she's ready. I'll make the mixture the hospital gave instruction on for her feeding tube. Maybe hold off on the pain meds or give a little less while she's still awake." This was comfortable for her in some way. Tilting her head back, Sharon lets the near scalding water splash her face.

"You know, we could kill two birds with one stone. Conserve water." Jack smirks.

"How about we don't." She rolls her eyes.

He raises his eyebrows, "That isn't how you acted at the hospital."

"You are her father. I can not handle the infants and tend to her care alone, and I will not ask Rusty for help. He must concentrate on his studies. You, however, are not working. You could care for her while I am at the office." Sharon nods, "Until she is able to care for herself for the most part."

"Shar, you know I'm not good with little ones." Jack sighs, zippering his pants when he finishes, he turns the sink on, washing his hands. "Never was. Plus, the boy really dislikes me. I try and he still screams when I try to touch him."

"I could take advantage of the onsite daycare center while working. Then, you will only need to deal with Quinn." She sighs, quite aware of just how much care he aided her with when their children were growing up, or lack thereof.

"Why are we having this conversation while you're in the shower?" He folds his arms, smirking, "Still have that figure, I see."

"Please wait outside while I finish, Jackson."

"Oh, come on. It was a compliment!"

"Wait outside, Jackson." Sharon tries again.

Jack rolls his eyes, doing as he's told.

Sharon grins widely, surprised he even listened to her. Taking advantage of the on-site daycare facility may be the best bet for her. Slowly ease herself back into work while tending to two small children alone again. This was twenty six years ago all over again.


	5. Chapter 5

Quinn rolls her eyes, "I don't know why you're going to so much trouble. I look like I've been run over by a herd of giraffes on a good day." She moans softly as she adjusts her position. She absently touches her feeding tube, "Medication go into this thing too?"

"Yes." Sharon gently brushes her daughter's thick hair, "You look beautiful, honey. A couple of bruises aren't going to ruin that."

"A couple?" She snorts, then hisses, "Like saying the Civil War was just an argument."

"Just a couple. And your stitches are behind your ear and in your mouth, completely unnoticeable. The children will notice nothing." She shakes her head, "Are you okay?"

"Sore..." Quinn parts her lips slightly, watching the joy her mother was getting out of the situation, "Is this pillow absolutely necessary for me to carry around at all times?"

"You have broken ribs, honey. Yes, unless you would rather be in pain when you rise from chairs or try to sit in them. It is not a comfortable injury."

"You know this, how?"

A smirk creeps across her face, "I am an officer of the law. We are not immune to injuries. Simple hand to hand combat. The suspect was unarmed, but looking for a fist fight. I entertained him for a small amount of time before he managed to land a steel toed boot into my side. I tazed him when he tried again."

Quinn watches her mother through the mirror, "And how old was I?"

Sharon tilts her head to the side, attempting to figure the question out, "Around fourteen, I believe." She nods, "Yes, fourteen. You had the bring your parent to school day where they did a three legged race-"

"And you wouldn't compete. I was so pissed off at you. Why didn't you just tell me?" She smirks.

"I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to worry." She shakes her head, "I was just thrilled that you asked me to come with you. I mean, you were a sophomore that year. Already an outcast because of skipping the fifth grade, a cheerleader-"

"The anti-cheerleader."

"Whatever that means. You barely spoke to me while you were in high school unless you needed something. So yes, I was thrilled to go. I wasn't going to tell you about an injury that was going to keep me home."

Quinn smiles softly to the reflection of her mother in the mirror, "I always wanted to be just like you. Did you know that?"

Sharon pauses, taken aback, looking up to her daughter's reflection, "I did not know that."

"Yeah. You're the strongest woman I know. Still are. Smart." She shrugs, "You're the type of mother that I aspire to be." She watches the woman, their emerald eyes meeting, "I mean it, Mom. I really do."

The other woman tilts her head to the side, looking away from her daughter in the chair. A tear coming to her eye. The information held within her mind screaming to escape, screaming to spill from her lips. Her daughter's revelation only making things worse. "Oh, Quinny." She shakes her head.

"Dad left all the time and you had no say over the matter. For reasons unbeknown to myself, you stuck it out. You put up with his constant comings and goings. You raised Sam and me all by yourself. I never realized just how hard it was until I had it." She swallows, "And I...I feel like I should tell you something only because I don't like lying to you."

Sharon nods slowly, "Go ahead."

"I didn't really stop seeing Jamie." Quinn shakes her head slowly, "We weren't living together, but I thought it was important for my children to have their father around if he wanted to be...and he did. Yesterday was...the first time in a long time that he hit me. You need to understand that."

"It will never happen again." She leans down, kissing the young woman's temple, "Never again."

"When he finishes with whoever he paid to sew the bullet holes up, he'll come looking for me...for his kids."

"And I can promise you that he will not."

Quinn sighs, "I know my boyfriend, mother."

Sharon knows this isn't the time to actually come out and tell her anything, "I purchased the condo at the end of the hall for you and your children whilst you were pregnant. Three bedroom. I thought it would be nice for you since we have a doorman and security if need be."

"Because famous people live here, not because of the Raydors."

"It doesn't matter. I'd still like you to have it. I'd like to treat you with that." She gently stiles the young woman's hair, "Also, I'd like to help you with furniture as well-"

"Did you pick everything yourself?" She moans softly at the touch of anything to her bruised scalp, much less her mother's hands, "Or do I get a say in anything."

"Everything you'd like. The children have gender nonspecific bedrooms with their names in the walls. Easy for them to personalize when they grow older." Sharon grins, excited with the prospect of having them closer, "And this means Rusty and I are closer if you need us to help you."

Quinn has tears in her eyes, "Why did you do all of that?"

"Because you're my daughter and I love you." She nods, "And I wanted to keep you safe, but I would never stop you from making your own decisions. You turned it down before, but I always felt the need to keep it."

She nods slowly, "Can we go and see it sometime?"

"Absolutely, honey." Sharon offers her a small smile, "Tomorrow if you'd like."

"Okay." Quinn whispers, "You'll take pictures tonight?"

"Can't stop me from doing so." She grins, "They're going to love our Christmas, Honey. You have nothing to worry about." Sharon kisses the young woman's hair, "Wait until you see what your father bought them."

"I hope the two of you didn't do too much." She licks her lips, leaning her head back, "When can I have more meds?"

"Are you in pain?" Sharon looks to the reflection, alarmed.

"I'm always in pain. It's a matter of degrees." Quinn sighs, "After they open gifts. Since I'm not able to eat with the rest of you...maybe then?"

"You can eat with us. I have the concoction they-"

"I'm not hungry. I'm not anything." She pulls at her mother's hand so she can look her in the eye, "Mother, I look terrifying. Finn won't...He doesn't look at me the way he once did. And I can't, " Quinn pauses tears returning to her eyes, "I can't hold him like I usually do because it hurts me. I've tried to, but I can't. My clingy son who is a constant at my hip and I can't offer him a simple hug without-" The tears increase, "I hate this and it's only my first day home. How will I put up with this for weeks?"

"You aren't alone, Quinn. We will find a way." Sharon nods, knowing she must be strong for her daughter right now. Maybe that news can wait. Maybe she doesn't need to know at all. If she's lucky, this will all go away. She isn't usually lucky.

Rusty knocks on the bedroom door before opening it slowly, "Is it safe?" He asks before fully opening it.

"Sure." Sharon gently wipes the tears from her daughter's face, then her own.

He smiles, "The kids are eating a snack and watching TV. I didn't know if maybe you need some help."

"With what?" Quinn smirks towards him, "Yeah, okay, I guess I can let you help."

Sharon grins to the young man, "What about Jack and Sam?"

"They're also having snacks and watching TV." Rusty grins, gently helping Quinn from her seat, "You look great."

Quinn raises an eyebrow, "You're both blind as hell." She sighs softly, leaning slightly on Rusty as her mother is close behind her.

The gift wrapping and subsequent dinner went off without a hitch, causing everyone a great deal of exhaustion after an already stressful day. Sharon rearranges the final toy under the tree, as they were all scattered about. The children asleep, even the adult ones.

Jack grins, "Babe, they're just going to pull them all out tomorrow. Why bother?"

She looks over to him, placing her hands at her hips, "I'd rather no one fall tonight as they attempt to sneak to the kitchen for leftover turkey."

"The kid made all that?"

"Sam said he did, yes." Sharon grins, he's very good at it.

Jack nods slowly, taking hold of her hand as she walks closer, "The grandkids loved their gifts."

"I had a hunch they would." She nods, taking a seat next to him, allowing him to wrap his large arms around her, "Rusty liked his gifts, Sammy and Quinn enjoyed theirs as well."

"You won that one. You gave her a new place to live."

"Do you want her going back to the old one?"

The man shakes his head, "Never." He kisses his estranged wife's temple. They weren't necessarily close, but it was nice to pretend they were on very few occasions, such as this one. "Ya know, I've been thinking."

"Well, congratulations to you." Sharon smirks.

"Really, though. I've been thinking that maybe we try this again. We try us again." Jack remains silent a few moments, watching the woman with hopeful eyes.

"Absolutely not." Her answer was quick when his gaze started to burn her.

"Why not?"

Sharon sighs heavily, "I've agreed to it in the past. I agree to try again and I end up depressed and alone after a few days because you've gotten a call about a good tip on a bet in Las Vegas. I don't enjoy feeling that way, contrary to popular belief. That doesn't even cover how the children felt." She wraps an arm around him, "Let's just have this, Jack. Let's have tonight."

"I wasn't going back to Vegas. I want to give it all up, get back into the lawyer business full time." Jackson nods slowly, "I have grandchildren now and they barely know me because I'm not here. Know how much that hurts me?"

"You do it to yourself though." Sharon sighs softly, "If Quinn wasn't hurt, would you be even considering the prospect?"

He's quiet for a few moments, actually thinking about the question, "I don't know."

"Exactly. Don't give up your life for this. In a week or so, she will be able to care for herself." She tilts her head up to look at him, "You've made some serious progress with the children these past few years. You know that, Jack." She looks back to the fireplace, "I don't want you to ruin all of that if you make promises and then shoot off to Las Vegas so that you can bet on a horse race in a week."

"You're right." Jack sighs heavily, "You're always right, Sharon." He absently kisses her hair.

Sharon turns her head to face him, leaning in, she kisses his lips deeply. Something she hasn't thought of doing in many years.

His hands begin to slide down her body, lifting her into his lap for better positioning. Deeper and deeper still. The man grins when his wife begins to unbutton his shirt.

She stops abruptly at the sound of one of the children crying. "Finn." She quickly rises from his lap, jogging to her room where each twin had their own play yard to sleep in.

Jack sighs, leaning his head back. He could never understand his wife, since the day he met her. She was also secretive to a degree, needing to always protect herself. He knows he caused most of it. He was angry with himself for causing most of it.

Sharon grins to her grandson, lifting him from his netted pen. Glancing over to her daughter, she was thankful for the pain medication and sleeping aid mixture she gave to her after dinner. She nods, running her hand through his short hair, "Everything is okay." She quietly carries him to the living room.

He glances over his shoulder when he sees her form reemerge from the room. Smirking, "He may be a little more tan than ours were, but you look the same as you did twenty-five years ago."

She blushes, "I'm surprised you remember."

"Through the alcohol and whatever else, there are still some things ya just don't forget, Shar." Jack smirks, wrapping his arm around her when she returns to her place next to him on the sofa, "Can't sleep, little guy?" He reaches toward him with his large hand, only to have the boy cower slightly, instead he brings his hand down, offering it to him.

Finn leans his head onto his grandmother's chest, cautiously taking hold of his grandfather's finger, watching him.

Sharon licks her lips, smiling softly, aware of what was going on, "See? He does not dislike you as much as you originally thought. You're a big person to him. You and Sam both frighten him because of it."

"And why he favors you and that scrawny boy of yours. Makes sense." He chuckles to himself.

"Rusty is not scrawny."

"I didn't even have to tell you who I was talking about." Jack looks her in the eye, "Can we talk about what just happened before-"

"No, we cannot." Sharon shakes her head, stroking Finn's curly mop, "It was a moment of weakness and it will not happen again."

"Why is that? I don't think it was weak. I think it was brave of you to admit your true feelings. To act on them, Shar."

"I want to be able to move on, Jack." She says quietly, "I've remained loyal all of these years...this ring means a great deal to me in that aspect. Something tells me that it has not held the same meaning to you."

He sighs heavily, leaning his head back, "I've battled many demons, Sharon."

"I'm aware." Sharon rubs her face against the boy's soft hair, letting the motions calm the both of them.

"The day I married you was the happiest day of my life."

"Oh come now, you were terrified." She looks over to him, "We ran to Las Vegas because a doctor told me that not only was I pregnant, but that I was nearly two months along...which we didn't expect at all. You couldn't handle that. You were so scared that your mother would disown you."

"She tried and you were cool as a cucumber...as always." Jack chuckles to himself, thinking back.

"I thought my Catholic parents would be the worst of it, but they were thrilled. Only one to upset was my father, who wanted to walk me down the aisle." Sharon grins, "Remember the first time Quinn asked us about our wedding?"

"You were conceived on our honeymoon, Quinny. Just born early." He grins broadly, "I remember that conversation."

"You were home that weekend...she was six. Smart as anything." She reaches a hand over when her grandson lets go of the man's finger, placing her fingers into his large, rough palm, "She was so excited that you were home and it was the week that Sister Jude wanted them to discuss their parents and where they came from."

"She wanted us to come in and meet her friends together." Jack rubs the back of her hand with his thumb, absently.

Sharon nods, "You promised her that you would and you left that night." She swallows, leaning her head onto him.

"And I regretted it ever since."

"I bet." She whispers, tears spawning into her eyes, "Let's just have this, okay?" The soft snores of her grandson cause her to smile as her estranged husband's large arm wraps around her once more. Her eyelids heavy.

"As you wish." Jack whispers into her ear.


	6. Chapter 6

Rusty walks to the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on, as he does most mornings for Sharon. He smiles when he sees Jack, Sharon, and Finn sound asleep on the sofa. He silently walks over, taking a picture with his phone. Amazed at how happy and comfortable they all appeared to be together. It was something he wasn't used to. Sure, his mother paraded guy after guy through their apartment, through his life, but no good one ever remained. Jack Raydor may have his shortcomings, but Rusty couldn't help but feel some parental pull with him. He meant well, just never really knows how to show it.

The buzzer to the front door chimes. No one was expecting it and why should they?

The young man scurries to the front door, peering through the peep hole. He smiles as he opens it, "Lieutenant Flynn, Lieutenant Provenza. Merry Christmas."

"Same to you, kid. Raydor around?" Flynn slides his hands into his pockets, sliding the toothpick resting at one corner of his mouth to the other.

"Which one?" Rusty laughs to himself, "Want to come in? Everyone is still kind of asleep, but I can get you coffee."

"Nah, we can't stay and chat." Provenza shakes his head, his bucket hat covering his frosty white hair, "We really need to speak to the Captain please."

He sighs, "One minute-"

"What seems to be the issue?" Sharon walks up behind the teenager, it all seems oddly familiar to her for one reason or another. She tucks a strand of her wild hair behind her ear, "Rusty, I think some of your coffee is ready. Please excuse us." She nods as the young man walks back into the condo, closing the door behind her so she can speak to her Lieutenants.

Provenza sighs, "I hate to have to do this, but we're going to need to take Quinn in for questioning."

"What for?"

"Data recovered from her phone seems to show that she may have lured him to the apartment." The man continues.

"What? That's absurd." Sharon shakes her head.

"Sounds that way, Captain, but we need to show the family that we offered no preferential treatment to her because she is our boss' daughter." Flynn nods, "And you know that."

"She's on various medications, unable to safely move, without assistance, because of them. She had surgery the other day and braved through the pain to watch her children open gifts for their first Christmas." She shakes her head, "I have yet to inform her that James Truitt is dead."

Flynn shakes his head, "Captain-"

"Gentlemen, anything she tells you will be inadmissible in court because of her medication. You should have just called." Sharon folds her arms across her chest, "His family filed for what exactly?"

"They claim he told them he was bringing the kids over yesterday. That your daughter promised him that he could."

"That's a lie."

"Captain-"

"Each of you saw her on Christmas Eve. You have a firsthand account of what she looked like and how he left her. It was self-defense." Sharon can feel her anger begin to rise, but attempts of keeping calm are failing slightly, "His family wants to make a case out of it, show them pictures of the crime scene. Show them what that monster did to my daughter."

"Captain, we'll be back." Provenza says gently, "Please, inform Quinn." He removes his hat, running a hand through his hair, "We chatted quite a bit while she was in Emergency. I believe what you are saying, Captain. I do. However, because he told his family something else, it's making her look bad. The sooner we talk to her, the better."

"I have a plan." Flynn says quickly, "Can you have her up and ready by say, three?"

Sharon tilts her head to the side, watching him, "Possibly, why?"

"I'll tell his family to come in. If they see, first hand, the damage caused, they may drop it right there." He offers gently, "And it may clear up some things. However, maybe hold off on the medication until she's finished."

The woman looks to him for a few moments before nodding, "Hopefully, you're right about this." She glances between them, "I will bring her in then." Sliding back into the condo, she closes the door behind herself. Picking her head up slowly, Sharon notices Rusty standing there. She isn't sure if she should say anything, or nothing at all.

"You need to tell her." Rusty watches her.

Sharon nods slowly, "I know."

"You need to wake her." He shrugs, "Do do you want me to help you with anything? Maybe she'd like some tea or coffee?"

She shakes her head, walking to her bedroom door. She slowly lets herself inside, smiling when she notices both her daughter and granddaughter are both sleeping the same way. Her daughter in bed, and Harper in her pen. Sharon gently lies next to her daughter, softly stroking her hair.

"_Look, Shar, she looks just like you." Jackson beams, proud of the creation in front of him. He offers the newborn his finger, watching as she grips it tightly, "I mean...a little bit like a primate, but still beautiful as hell."_

"_Are you saying I look like a monkey?" Sharon raises an eyebrow, her hair darker then. Her face slightly round due to her pregnancy._

"_No, but she does...just a little bit, though. Nothing to worry about." He shakes his head, "Can you believe this? Can you?"_

"_I carried her within my body for nearly a year. Yes, Jackson, I can believe it." She adjusts her position in the bed, a feeling of listlessness washing over her, "Did you remember to call your parents?" When he doesn't answer, she tries again for his attention, "Jack."_

"_What?" He smirks to his daughter still, finally picking his head up to meet her eye, "Didja say something?"_

"_Did you call your parents?"_

"_Shit, no." Jack sighs, "I knew there was something I didn't remember."_

"_Not much, apparently." She watches him fawn over their daughter, "Where were you when my mother called?"_

"_What?" He shakes his head, frustrated with her constant questioning._

"_Where were you?"_

_Jack finally reaches into the Plexiglas bassinette, lifting his daughter to rest on his chest, "At the office."_

"_Mother tried the office, you weren't there."_

"_I was on my way here." He answers quickly, not hearing the question so much as wanting to shut the woman up and stop the questions._

_Sharon starts to glare, "Could you fucking listen to me for two seconds?"_

_His wife wasn't one to use foul language often. When she did, Jack knew she meant business, "I'm listening."_

"_You weren't in the office, where were you?" She licks her lips, the look in her eyes subsiding slightly._

"_Steve's." He nods, stroking the newborn's back, "She's big, isn't she?"_

"_Nine pounds, Four ounces is perfectly normal." Sharon answers quietly, not liking her husband's answer. She knew Steve's was a tavern. Some of the people she worked with, all men, would go there to place bets on horse races or football games. Essentially, any sporting event could be bet on._

_Jack grins, "She's perfect."_

"_Why weren't you at the office?"_

"_I just wasn't, alright? Jesus, Sharon, what's with all the fucking questions?" He raises an eyebrow._

"_Your pregnant wife is at home, more than a week overdue. Anyone else would have been right next to the closest possible phone that had a well-known number for said wife to call in case she were to go into labor. However, you were nowhere to be found. Even your secretary didn't know where you were. I find that a bit odd, Jackson, even for you." She shakes her head slowly._

_Jack shakes his head slowly, "You were more than a week overdue. I didn't know when you were going to go into labor, neither did you. They were going to induce you in a few days. I didn't think you would go before then. I'm sorry, sweetheart. Really, I am." He looks to his wife, "You think of a name?"_

_This wasn't the time or place for an argument, especially not in front of their newly born daughter. "Her name is Quinn."_

The young woman stirs ever so slightly at the touch of her mother. She smirks, "Morning."

"Good morning, honey." Sharon smiles, attempting to keep a calm atmosphere, "Rusty wanted to know if you'd like some coffee or tea to get you started."

"What time is it?" Quinn examines her mother's face, quickly realizing something else is lying beneath the surface.

"Nearly eleven."

"And you've...are the kids alright?" She furrows her brow slightly, usually being awakened at eight for breakfast by her children.

Sharon nods slowly, "Of course. Still sleeping actually. I believe yesterday took a lot out of them."

"Oh." She swallows, blinking again, "They're schedule is fucked."

"It's Christmas, Quinny. Who cares?"

Quinn smiles softly, "So, what's the issue?"

"Am I that transparent?" Sharon leans back, folding her legs.

"Yes, mother, you are that transparent."

She hums with a nod, "Yes, well. There is something you need to know that I didn't tell you yesterday, or the day prior to that, because neither were the right places or times for do so."

Quinn swallows, adjusting her posture, "This has to do with James, doesn't it..."

It wasn't a question, a realization more like it, "Yes, it does."

She nods slowly, "Have they not found him yet? I'm not going to press charges." She answers quietly, moaning from the pain caused by moving the wrong way with her broken ribs, "I'd like him to see what he's done though. He always feel bad after he does it. Jekyll and Hyde."

Sharon swallows, watching her, "Quinn, James Truitt was found dead in his vehicle a few blocks from your apartment. He succumbed to his injuries due to blood loss."

A blank expression washes over the young woman's face, then that of horror, "No...He...he walked out. I saw him leave and..." Quinn shakes her head, "No...Mom, I didn't kill anyone."

"His family members are pressing charges. Flynn and Provenza stopped by just a few minutes ago. They need you to go in for questioning."

"You'll help me with that?" A tear escapes her eye, but can't be heard in her voice.

"Of course."

"And you'll watch the kids?"

Sharon nods, "The men will. I believe it would be best if I went with you." She tilts her head to the side, "I'm sorry, honey."

"I killed a man." Quinn looks to her hands, flexing her fingers when she notices them trembling, "How do you...How am I supposed to get over that?" She lets her mother help her sit up better, propped up with pillows, "The father of my children. The...For the rest of their lives, they'll know their mother killed their father."

The older of the two shakes her head slowly, "With reason. You saved your life and their life." Sharon leans down, softly kissing her daughter's forehead, "Besides, they don't need to know anything of what happened until they are much older and prepared to learn that information."

"I didn't mean to kill him, Mom."

"I know." She touches her daughter's forearm, "We never mean to kill them."

"I...I didn't even..." She glances over toward her daughter, who is standing up inside her pen.

Harper grins to her mother and grandmother, reaching up when the latter walks to her.

Sharon places the girl against her hip, "Are you hungry, Quinn?"

The young woman shakes her head slowly, "Get her something to eat, please?"

"Of course, and then I'll be in to give you something. You have to get some nutrients in you. I'll give you medication after you speak with my colleagues." She lets the young girl at her hip play with her hair.

"Where's Finn?"

"He slept with your father and I last night."

Eve raises an eyebrow, "I don't know whether or not to be...angry, surprised..."

"Quinn..."

"You slept with Dad?"

Sharon shakes her head, "We were watching a movie. Finn started to fuss, I brought him out to sit with us, he went back to sleep." She puts a hand up, "Simple as that."

Quinn gives her a look, her eyes sparkling through bruised eye sockets, "Because if you and that man rekindle-"

"Stop." She looks to her above her glasses, "Your father and I have a long history. It's only necessary that we are able to be comfortable in each other's presence. Through all the things he did at one time, he's realized his issues. Also, he's still the father of my children...meaning you. He and I are able to maintain a civil and diplomatic relationship with one another, including watching a movie together when everyone else has gone off to bed."

The young woman hums, "You keep rationalizing that for yourself." She smirks when her infant daughter waves to her, waving back. "She likes eggs or waffles in the morning. Lunch is a free-for-all, whatever they want. Usually fruit pieces or some sort of pasta."

"They're able to chew that?"

Quinn nods a little, "Yes, they're fine."

Sharon smiles when the girl hugs onto her, "I will return in a little bit with food for you, Quinny."

"Take your time. Not like I can enjoy the taste."

"It is only until your jaw heals enough and it is able to safely sustain the pressure of chewing."

"I know." Quinn smiles softly, "I'll be here." Watching her mother and daughter leave the room, she examines her trembling hands again. She's gotten paper cuts with these hands, swayed them during ballet routines, held her children with these hands. Quinn swallows, letting the tears return to her eyes. These were now the hands of a murderer.


	7. Chapter 7

Quinn sits in a wheelchair, the dreary gray walls make her feel almost claustrophobic. Her fingertips shakily rub the texture of the table in front of her, cold, yet smooth. It helps calm her nerves almost. She wasn't sure if the shaking was because of her nerves or because of the absence of pain medication, or both. She attempts to adjust her position in the wheelchair only to feel a sharp stabbing pain from her abdomen. She stops, moaning softly as the sounds turns to a hiss. She knows she's being watched. She knows some evaluating is going on before the officers sit with her.

"She's fidgeting." Buzz leans forward, moving the camera to focus on her more, "Is she okay?"

Provenza nods, "Captain already warned us that she's not had any pain meds today. She's probably hurting a bit."

"Who is going in?" Taylor slides his hands into his pockets.

"Lieutenant Flynn and Detective Sykes." Buzz nods.

"Flynn and Sykes?" Provenza raises an eyebrow, "I'll go in. She's weird about new people."

"No, I think that pairing is just fine." Taylor nods, looking at the monitor, "We have a huge storm brewing. A young white woman shoots a young black man who was cleaning his life up while he attempts to take his children to his mother's house for the Christmas Eve holiday.. I don't want any preferential treatment given."

"There is no..." Tao glares toward the man.

"If this was your daughter sitting there, bruised, a history of abuse between the victim and her. A restraining order after proof was given of abuse, you'd want all the preferential treatment given. She's done nothing but cooperate, Chief. She left the hospital hours after surgery just so she could see her kids open gifts for their first Christmas. The Victim had enough strength to drive away. Though blood loss due to the bullet wounds sustained may have been the cause of his death, it does not make Quinn Raydor the enemy. The way you're speaking of her right now makes me question your impartiality in this particular case." Provenza watches the monitors at the girl obviously in pain until the door opens.

Sykes didn't know what to expect. A few bumps and bruises, she thought. She'd seen that with people close to her. She didn't know Quinn Raydor and maybe it was for the best. It's terrible if you grow too close to someone, just as bad if one doesn't, but a bit more tolerable. She nods to Flynn, offering a smile as she steps through the doorway, letting him take the lead. This was terrible. Even worse because she looked just like her role model, Captain Raydor. She accidently audibly hisses, getting a look from Flynn in return.

"Ms. Raydor, I don't know if you'd remember me. I was the responding officer to the scene of your apartment." Flynn smiles to the young woman, "I'm Lieutenant Andy Flynn, this is Detective Amy Sykes, we're going to ask you some questions if that's alright."

"I want to talk to Jamie's mother." Quinn watches him, his voice is familiar.

"We may be able to arrange that, Ms. Raydor, but only if she wants to speak with you." Sykes glances to her still trembling hand. "Are you aware of what happened to James Truitt, Ms. Raydor?"

"My mother told me this morning." She leans back in the chair, tears in her eyes, "I didn't know..."

"You were not aware of the extent of his injuries?"

Quinn shakes her head slowly, "Of course not."

"Can you tell me what happened?" Flynn tries to watch her eyes.

"I only remember bits a pieces."

"Well, tell us what you remember, we'll attempt to piece it together." Amy offers her a reassuring smile, this was worse than she thought.

"Jamie and I were...we weren't supposed to be near one another. He could get into a lot of trouble, but I let him because of the kids. They deserve a father if he's going to love them and show them affection. One smack, one raise of his hand and he was...that would be it. He would be out." Quinn watches the female detective, she was close to her age, "I actually really loved him...regardless of all his...our..."

"You're doing a great job, Ms. Raydor." This was almost painful, Flynn thinks, "Please keep going."

"I sent him a message, I think. With a picture of the kids. I wanted to show him the outfits he bought them for Christmas. I was going to take them to my mother's and later on we'd go to his mother's for a few hours. We couldn't go together, but I'd let him stop over to see them before I left. Then my mother text me, saying she was on her way over to help. Well...I knew that wasn't going to go over well, at all." Quinn adjusts her position again, moaning softly, "He was at the door, banging, banging. Saying to let him in." She shakes her head, "I don't remember much else. Just that he was taking them to his mother's and I told him no. The kids don't really know him and aren't comfortable around people they don't know. The argument escalated. He...punched me square in the temple...knocked me out...I don't know what else happened. Really."

Sykes almost has tears in her eyes, "Thank you, Ms. Raydor. Would you mind if we presented you some pictures of how we found him?" When the young woman agrees, she places the pictures onto the table of the scene, James Truitt's body slumped over in his car, blood everywhere.

Quinn's face contorts slightly, her teeth showing as she breaks out a sob, "Oh God." She carefully looks at each photograph, "Oh Jamie...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." She shakes a little more. "I loved him. I did. I really did. All the shit he...the good usually outweighed the bad. When he was good he was really good, but when he was bad it was...hell."

"Here it says you only filed abuse charges once as well as the restraining order at the same time. Were there more times?" Andy knew the answer, but he knew she had to be the one to say it.

"Yeah...God, yeah." She brings her shaking hand to her bruised face, gently wiping away the tear, "I didn't want him getting in trouble. I just wanted him to be with me. I loved him too much for that. Though, I guess not enough since I didn't do anything to get him help."

Sykes nods slowly, seeing the honesty in her, "The two of you have two children together, correct?"

"Yes, twins. A boy and a girl." Quinn smirks softly, "When I told him...he was so angry. So...He wasn't expecting it and neither was I, but...when the babies came it seemed to make sense. He'd ask me to marry him, we'd be fine together. We'd be happy."

"Was it that way?"

"No...He grabbed my arms and shook me...smacked me across the face. Told me I was trapping him." She swallows, "I guess I was in a way. Not intentionally, but I wasn't getting any younger and I wanted children. He told me he did too. I knew, as did he, that children that we would create together would be absolutely gorgeous...we were right. He just...I guess he wasn't expecting it at the time."

"Can you tell us about your relationship with his family?" Andy watches her closely.

Provenza sighs, knowing it's their standard line of questioning, then they'd go back to the original questions about what happened that day. He slips out of the room, walking to the Captain's office, her door open. He walks in, "She's doing great in there."

Sharon glances up to him, nodding, "His family is in the break room." She raises an eyebrow, "I wasn't expecting it."

"Did they say anything to you?"

"No...no, not at all. Just fell eerily silent." She licks her lips, "They know who I am, but with this situation, what do you say to someone who lost their child at the hands of your own child?" She shakes her head, it wasn't so much a question as it was an observation on her part. Sharon looks up to him, "I don't like being this close to a case and not be able to oversee it."

"Captain, We wouldn't let anything happen to her. You know that." Provenza shakes his head, "I saw how she was at the hospital. I don't believe she could do something like that."

"It isn't about personal beliefs. It is about what the evidence shows. Morales is covering this case?"

"Of course." He can sense a feeling of helplessness about the woman, "Flynn is going easy on her. Sykes too."

"I have no worries about them, Lieutenant." Sharon shakes her head slowly, "Or their abilities while questioning a..." She stops herself, the full effect of what was occurring fully hitting her. Her very own daughter that was at the top of her class in college. Her daughter that chose ballet against anything else. Her daughter that was now an amazing mother. Her daughter was a suspect. She can feel her eyes begin to sting with the common feeling of tears.

"You know, there's nothing you could have done. This is just one of those things that happened." Provenza keeps his arms at his side, thinking of the woman before him almost as a younger sister that he must protect and help along in some way, "If this were one of my own, I wouldn't handle it any differently."

"There are...multiple laws in which she's protected. However, though it would have been in our best interest to have a lawyer present during the interrogation session that is occurring right now, and trust me, I gave Gavin Baker a call before we arrived, I'd like to think of it as a symbol of good faith-"

"She wants to speak with his mother." He interrupts her, knowing where she was going with her statement.

Sharon stands straighter, tilting her head to the wide, "What?"

"Quinn has expressed desire to speak with the victim's mother." Provenza nods, "And possibly his sister, but I think both are a terrible idea."

"Maybe not." She shakes her head slowly, "Quinn and the twins' father's side are on good terms...were on good terms. Has anyone been in to talk with them?"

"Sykes and I went in earlier." He watches her, "Captain, I just don't think it's-"

"Except I believe you're mistaken, Lieutenant. Mothers will always protect their children, which is what his mother is doing now. However, the grandchildren are an entirely different thing."

"I try to be close with my grandkids." Provenza smirks a little, "I forget just how many there are except for the holidays, in which I'm reminded all over again who I always forget to buy a gift for...or how many there actually are."

"Maybe it is different as a woman." Raydor shrugs, then looks at him, "I don't want his family to think this was a senseless crime because he lied to them."

He thinks about it a few moments, standing there quietly, "They won't, Captain." Provenza opens the door leading to the outer Murder Room, returning to the media area, "How's it going?"

Buzz glances up at him, shaking his head. He points on the monitor, "The shaking in her hands has worsened." His tones are quiet, so that only the older man can hear and not Taylor, "Her speech is starting to..." He shrugs, "I think they're nearly finished, if not, you may need to intervene."

Provanza nods, "Flynn isn't that stupid."

Sykes glances to her superior officer, then back to the young Raydor sitting before them. She leans over to speak only in his ear, "Lieutenant, should we get some medical personnel or just return her to the Captain?"

"I'm ready to call this interview, but I'd rather she wasn't alone while we decide how to handle it." Flynn replies back in the same manner.

"I'll stay." She nods, "Ms. Raydor, could you tell me about what you do for a living?"

Andy rises from his seat, moving back to the hallway only to have both the Captain and his friend there waiting for him, "I really think she needs a doctor up here."

Captain Raydor shakes her head, "That isn't necessary. I'll take her home."

"She's said quite a number of times that she wasn't leaving until she speaks to the victim's mother, which we had Mike go and scope out for us. His mother agreed to it." Flynn glances to her, "Only way it isn't going to look like she backed out is if she's taken out of here on a stretcher or the like."

"Lieutenant-"

"No, I agree with him, Captain." Provenza nods, "You should see her on the monitors."

"Amy wanted to stay with her." Andy watches his superior.

Sharon picks her head up, glancing to the doors when she sees Sanchez and Taylor almost run toward the interview room. She quickly follows, immediately dreading what she was about to uncover.


	8. Chapter 8

Flynn and Provenza shuffle into the break room, quickly moving over to the coffee station. "Can't believe she just started seizing like that. Lucky Morales was on the floor with his report to help out." Andy nods, walking with his friend.

"Doctor said in the hospital that so many blows to the head could make her susceptible for a seizure. Any bad head injury could. I mean, that's what Morales said as well. Took one look at her and asked if she had a concussion. Captain was thankful she wasn't around the kids or Rusty." Provenza shakes his head slowly.

"She was real set on speaking to his mother too." Flynn notices the victim's family starting to take notice of their conversation, slowly realizing they were listening in, "They took her to Cedars to run some tests, prescribe some things." He notices the people at the table in the room leave and smiles, "Think they feel sorry for her?"

The older man glances to the now empty table, "I don't care if they feel sorry for her. I don't want them to just feel sorry, I want them to know the truth."

Sharon returns home, alone. Her daughter needing to stay overnight for test on brain activity and sleeping patterns. She glances around, noticing Jack move from the kitchen to the breezeway. She stops, not wanting her emotions to betray her. Sharon tilts her head down, reaching a knuckle under her glasses to wipe tears before they fall. She slowly walks closer to her estranged husband, leaning her head against his chest.

Jack wraps his burly arms around her, holding her closely, "Let it out, Shar." He presses his lips against her temple. He used to see her like this once in a while after a case when he'd stay over. Andy Flynn called him from the office to let those still at the apartment know what was occurring so that Sharon could focus on her daughter.

"I'm not prepared for this."

"Why would you be?" He shakes his head, "Listen, the kids were great. Real taken with Rusty. He'll help you when-"

Tilting her face up to look him in the eye, "Or you could stay with me."

"You only ever allow me to stay, on your sofa, for two nights when it isn't the holidays." Jack raises an eyebrow, "I can't keep sleeping on a couch, Sharon."

"I don't expect you to." She swallows, it was hard for her to admit she needed help. Especially from her estranged husband who she may or may not be developing feelings for again. She couldn't forgive him for all the times he up and left her with two small children, showing little to no remorse upon his return, with empty pockets and no job, wanting to be added to the Court Appointed Attorneys list again just so he could leave when he was comfortable. However, that was the past. No one could change the past.

He nods slowly, "I wasn't really planning to-"

"That's what I thought." She pulls away from him, moving to the coat rack, removing her jacket and hanging it on one of the arms.

"Now, Sharon, I wasn't finished."

"Doesn't matter, Jack. It's always the same story. Any time I need you, you're nowhere to be found. When I do not, there you are, wanting something of me." Sharon shakes her head, "It's a two way street. I'm always the one giving. I always have been."

"I wasn't finished." Jack replies again, watching her, "Are you going to let me finish?"

She looks at the wall a moment, attempting to calm herself. She places her hands on her hips, finally looking to him, "Say what you have to say."

"I've been looking for apartments in-"

"This again."

"In the greater Los Angeles area. I've been planning to move back. I mean, ya only get grandkids once, right?"

"You only get children once as well and you didn't seem to care about them when they were small, or even when they grew older, so why should I expect you to care about the grandkids?" Sharon shakes her head, removing her heels, pulling on her usual Ugg boots before walking to the kitchen and tugging open the refrigerator.

Jack sighs, shaking his head, "I'm older now. I've changed."

"Not to sound rude, but I do not believe you."

"Yeah? What was Christmas Eve then? What was yesterday? What was today? Shar, what can I do to make you believe me?"

"Why should my belief in your plans change anything?" Sharon shakes her head, placing a plate in the microwave after putting the chilled food on top. She touches the buttons, adding time as it runs, "You could just do what you say you plan to do instead of just talking about it. Then, maybe I'd believe it."

"Okay." Jack watches her. Something within him would always burn for her. The feelings have never wavered, except for when he was drunk, and still he felt terrible when he thought otherwise. The holidays was a treat to her. She always wanted the nuclear family of mother and father and children. She had that, but the only time it was really whole was the holidays, when he was there, "I want to help you with the grandkids, Shar." When she doesn't answer him, removing the plate from the microwave and grabbing a fork from the drawer. "I want things to be different. I see how much the twins love you and how much they love the kid...and...they don't love me like that."

"They don't know you. What do you expect?" She puts her filled fork to her mouth, chewing and swallowing before she continues, "I see them multiple times during the week, as does Rusty. He babysits them when Quinn needs to work."

"Still. Sam too. They don't even know who we are."

"Samuel lives in San Diego. He speaks to his sister via video conference. The babies are too young to understand." Sharon shrugs, "What are you looking for from me, Jack? Sympathy?"

"I'm not looking for anything, Sharon." Jack slides his hands into his pockets, watching her.

She continues to eat, silence surrounding the room quickly before she looks up at him, "Then why do I always feel sorry for you?" When he shrugs, she continues, "What do you want from me?"

"Let me in. Let me visit more while I'm trying to get an apartment."

"I'm not accepting that deal, no." Sharon looks up at him, "If I start that, you will never want to find an apartment. It will be-"

"Maybe I just want to be with you." Jack tilts his head forward a little, smirking softly.

"Last night was not supposed to-"

"Yeah, but it did, Shar. I can't help but think some part of you wants me as much as I want you." He raises an eyebrow.

Sharon rolls her eyes, "I do not want this relationship to go anywhere and I certainly do not want to start the whole...needs thing we used to do. That's how we conceived Samuel-"

"Sharon, I don't think we have to worry about that possibility like we once-"

"I don't want to fall back into the rut that is sleeping with you. That's what you want and I do not. I'm at a comfortable place in my life. I don't-"

He shakes his head, "I don't want sex from you."

She pauses quickly, looking at him, "Why not?"

Jack chuckles, "I want to go out to dinner with you. I want to...I'd like to start fresh. I want to help you remember why you fell in love with me in the first place." He smiles to her, "I know I don't look like I used to when we met, you do...I don't understand that, but I want to get back to before."

"And if I don't?" Sharon rises from her seat to get a bottle of water, standing next to him at the fridge, "I have Rusty and now the grandkids, and even Quinn. Every time you would come back when our children were younger...I fall for you too quickly, Jack. I cannot put myself, nor this family, through the pain of you leaving again."

"There won't be again."

"You say that every time."

He nods, "Okay."

She pauses, waiting for more from him, "That's all?"

"We can do this on your terms." Jack leans his arm against the counter, "Everything... when it comes to the care of Quinn and the grandkids, and even Rusty, it will all be on your terms. Always has been, why should it change now, right?"

"Jackson-" She warns him.

"Pardon me for caring!"

Sharon shakes her head, "I will allow you to stay for the duration of Quinn's recovery while you look for another place to live. After that time is over, even if you haven't found a place, you are not welcome here unless otherwise asked. Is that understood?"

Jack stands there a moment, not expecting her to be so harsh, "Whatever you want."

"Damn right." She moves to the sink with her empty plate, rinsing it off before placing it in the dishwasher, "And you will sleep out here. I'm retracting the offer I made before. I don't want you next to me." Sharon walks past him as he stands, almost dumbfounded in the kitchen. Her children accused her of pushing him away when they were younger. Maybe they were right, but she knew then that she had to protect herself. Jack wasn't a violent man, a passionate man absolutely, but never violent. As the children grew older, they understood why she did it. To protect herself, to protect her emotions. She closes the door to her bedroom behind herself, looking to the two playpens containing her grandchildren. She had forgotten they were there.

Stretched out, their small bodies in bizarre poses. Sharon smiles as she stands over them, the movement of her granddaughter's mouth reminds her of her own daughter. She leans down, kissing each on the head before turning to face her bed. The spot where her daughter slept the night before. Her form still outlined by a space on the fitted sheets. Sharon usually made her bed when she awoke in the morning, but for some reason she didn't today. She steps over to the bed, placing a hand on the pillow that still held the indent of her daughter's head.

Rusty sits with his foster brother, watching as the man uses his usual herbal remedy to relax himself as they sit on Sharon Raydor's condo balcony, undetected. "So, think Quinn will be okay?"

Sam nods slowly, "She'll be fine. My sister is a pain in the ass, she's not going to give up that easily." He smirks, offering the paper wrapped herb to the younger.

He shakes his head, "No thanks." He leans back, looking at the stars, "When you were younger, was Sharon a good mom?"

The elder of the two smirks, "She worked a lot, you know. Jack would come and go as he pleased so it was just her putting us through school and trying to make our childhoods half decent. It was hard for her because he'd come back and say he'd be different and the first couple of times, she believed him."

Rusty raises an eyebrow, "Seriously? I can't really see Sharon-"

"She wanted her family to be whole. I understand it now, I didn't then. He was an asshole. Still is most times." Sam takes a long toke, staring up towards the stars.

"Are you angry with him?"

"For being an addict? No. For treating my sister and I like pawns... No. For hurting my mother, absolutely." He nods, "But, he seems like he's trying now, ya know?"

Rusty nods slowly, "Think he and Sharon will get back together?"

"Don't know...They're both older now, as are we, so I don't really care. Just saying, he hurts mom again and I'm done with him." Sam doesn't look at his foster brother, deep in thought.

"You don't trust him still? I mean...Everything seemed alright during dinner and stuff."

"Forgive, but never forget." He nods, thinking about various things from his childhood, he begins to smirk. "Once, at St. Joseph's, they had this thing called Dads-"

"And Donuts." Rusty nods.

"Well, Jack wasn't around and I was like...five. I didn't really understand why he wasn't there or where he even was. So, we take these papers home, telling our parents about what's going on for the month and Mom instantly got that I wanted my father to go to this. However, she knew he would never...ya know? So, I get out of the car, wait in line because that's what you did when you didn't have a parent who could participate. Five minutes later, here comes my mother with a fake mustache and her hair pulled back..." Sa, can't help but grin, "Of course, Quinn was mortified, but I thought it was the most hilarious thing I'd ever seen. Our picture was in the yearbook, and I now have it framed in my office at school."

The teenager laughs softly, "I can't ever see Sharon doing something like that."

"If it meant making Quinn or I happy, she'd cut her right arm off. She'd do the same for you too. I can see it in her eyes, the way she looks at you." When Sam sees the younger man shrug, he chuckles, "I'm serious. I think you're her favorite."

Rusty blushes softly, "She keeps talking about college...I don't really want to go."

"That is not even an option. You know Mom is going to make you go. Besides, you're too smart not to. Smarter than I was, that's for sure. Probably smarter than I am now."

He shrugs, "I'm happy here. I can do classes online...or go to community college."

"Not the same as being on a campus. Look, I'm not saying you have to join a fraternity like I did or anything like that, but if you wanted to, I could pull strings."

"I know what goes on in Frat houses."

"See, most of that shit is a lie." Sam shakes his head, "At least maybe for my fraternity. We did a lot of work in the community. Cleaning things up, working with poor kids." He smirks, "It was fun."

Rusty bites his cheek inside, "So...you didn't party?"

"Oh, sure. Partied all the time, but we knew when to cool it." Sam nods to him, flicking the tiny portion of his blunt off the balcony.

"I'm going back inside."

"Alright, I think I'm going to stay out here. Not too cold and bugs don't fly this high. Night, Rusty." He pulls the throw blanket he carried out with him up over his chest, comfortable in his stoned state.

Rusty sighs, making sure his foster brother was completely covered. He slides the glass door closed behind him, hearing the definite sound of the front door opening and closing. He furrows his brow, seeing the light on in the living room illuminating a white envelope as it sits on the side table. He picks it up, noticing it's addressed to Sharon. He glances around, seeing the air mattress is down, and Jack's suitcase gone. He bites his lip, knowing the man was gone again. Rusty glances to the time on his watch before walking to Sharon's room, knowing that the babies were also sleeping in the room. He slowly opens the door, seeing her lying in the spot her daughter was earlier in the day. "Sharon." He whispers, gently touching her shoulder and sitting on her side of the bed.

Sharon slowly picks her head up, glancing around the dark room, noticing quickly that she still has her clothes on from earlier in the day, shoes included. "What is it?" She whispers, glancing to the teenager. When he holds up the familiar envelope with her name on it. She nods slowly, "Rip it up, throw it away."

He continues to sit there, watching her, "You okay?"

"I didn't expect him to stay around as long as he already had. I've done this all alone before, I can do it again."

"You're not alone this time though." Rusty shakes his head, "I'm here, Sam's here until the end of school break, I think." He swallows, "Did you guys get into an argument?"

"A disagreement." Sharon licks her lips, slowly removing her shoes, placing them on the floor before she sits up some, "I don't expect you to do anything, Rusty."

"You said I was family." He swallows, "It's what family does, right? Stick together?"

Feeling the usual sting in her eyes of tears, she reaches a hand over to touch his forearm, "That we do."

"So, I can make breakfast in the morning and stuff. You can go spend time with Quinn." Rusty watches her face, knowing she was filled with emotion just by the sound of her voice, "I know it hasn't been much of a holiday, but they loved it and I loved it." He smiles, moving closer to her, "And we'll be okay."

Sharon nods, hugging onto the teenager, knowing this may very well be his last holiday with her depending on where he decides to attend school in the fall. "Absolutely." She softly kisses his temple. Though she believed things would have gone different with Jack, she was relieved that he decided to leave sooner rather than later. This is all she has ever needed, the family that matters most to her as close as possible.


End file.
